


glittering cities of gold, they hold no meaning

by atlas_oulast



Category: Keeper of the Lost Cities Series - Shannon Messenger
Genre: Depression, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 10:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19827928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlas_oulast/pseuds/atlas_oulast
Summary: The Neverseen had been defeated, finally, Sandor and the other goblin bodyguards discharged and sent back home to Gildingham, and Sophie could finally be a normal, happy seventeent year old girl.So why was she curled up amongst twisted sheets, shaking, crying, holding a dagger and contemplating dragging it across her wrists?





	1. just make it stop, make it go away, i don’t care what i have to do

**Author's Note:**

> my first keeper fic! i. fuckin. LOVE THESE BOOKS. haven’t read flashback yet but im super excited too and legacy looks DOPE AS FUCK
> 
> tw for self harm, suicidal thoughts, and light gore.

Sophie woke up in tears, and that wasn’t at all surprising to her.

For the past five months, waking up in tears and not being able to sleep for the rest of the night was just normal.

The Neverseen were gone now. Fintan was dead, Ruy was dead, Vespera and Gethen and Gisela... but the nightmares wouldn’t stop.

Gisela’s grisly, unimaginably horrific death, being torn to shreds by a creature similar to a Sarlacc pit, her screams of terror and agony as the creature slowly tore her apart...

Watching Vespera be slowly impaled by a poisonous plant, slowly slowly digging deeper into her stomach, the blood dripping out slowly, seeing the pointed end of it slowly break through her back and spine...

And that’s why Sophie wanted to scream for eight years and then sleep for twenty, but she couldn’t. The deaths haunted her, even if she kept herself as guilt free as possible, considering everything... but she kept seeing Fintan’s face, Vespera’s face, Gisela’s face...

Sophie didn’t fully realise what she was doing until she felt cool metal touch her skin as she pulled her smooth dagger from her bedside table, something she was gifted by the Black Swan and still kept, just in case of an emergency. Or out of irrational paranoia.

The hilt was a moonlark, it’s silver black wings fanning out to protect her hands, and the sleek blade shone in the bright, clear moonlight from her windows, which she hadn’t shut, out of fear.

If she slept in the dark, how would she know Vespera wouldn’t be standing over her when she woke up, the plant in her abdomen and a sick, bloody smile on her face as she convulsed?

She pressed it against her arm, breathing and processing the feel of the cool metal laying flat on her skin. 

What if she turned it, pressed it into that vein at her wrist, did the same for the other wrist, and then just went back to sleep?

She wouldn’t have to wake up crying ever again, the pain in her ribs and heart and head would cease, she could be free and happy, flying with Silveny in the clouds forever...

Or she could take her pathfinder, hold it to the moonlight, and then let her mind think of other things? She’d be sucked into the bright, glittering, happy world, and never have to leave. That wouldn’t be so bad.

But pain seemed to be deserved... she wondered how deep she could push it in, how much blood would spill until her body fell asleep...

And then reality smashed back into Sophie, like running full speed into the crystal walls of the pyramid at Foxfire.

She was in bed at maybe two in the morning, awake after yet another nightmare, holding a knife to her wrists.

She hadn’t even realised she’d gotten this bad... she was keeping her guilt in check, so why was this happening? 

She wanted it all to stop hurting, and god was the blade tempting... but there were too many people who would experience unimaginable pain if she died.

What would it say to the people of the glittering Lost Cities, that the moonlark who’d triumphed for their world just five months ago had died, taken her own life?

How would Grady and Edaline feel? After loosing two daughters... especially after the second had freaking killed herself... they’d be.... they might just shatter... and then there’d be no Sophie to heal them.

How would Keefe feel? He needed her... his mom was dead, he was still adjusting to living with his dad again, he was still so volatile...

How would Fitz feel? Her Cognate, someone who probably maybe possibly liked her back... he’d feel guilty, guilty he didn’t realise she was so bad before it was too late... he could shatter...

They could all shatter...

But Sophie wanted all this goddamn pain to stop, just stop, leave her alone, give her a goddamn night of peace.

She wanted to make the hurt in her body go away, make the voices shut up, so she could breathe.

So she brought the knife not to her wrist but to her upper arm, almost her shoulder, where nobody would see it. Capes would cover it, and most sleeves on elven clothing were at least elbow length... she’d just not wear anything shorter than that.

Sophie breathed. In.... out...

And then she pressed it in.

It tore slowly at her flesh, and immediately blood was spilt, bubbling up from the sides of the knife, running down her arm in streams already. She watched it spill out of her with morbid curiosity and interest, totally and completely hypnotised.

When she withdrew the knife from the arm, she held it up to the moonlight to inspect it, and her lips started to curl into a sick smile at the morbid amount of blood coating it, until she realised how hard she was shaking.

Sophie took a shimmering pink cape that was hanging from a hook, the closest article of clothing to her bed besides what she was wearing, wiped the dagger off with it, set it slowly, quietly back onto the bedside table, and pressed the cape to the wound, hoping to staunch the blood flow.

When she was pretty sure it’d stopped, she didn’t bother getting up to bandage it... what was the use? 

She hated how she felt so much better.... and simultaneously adored it, _craved_ it... wanted to do it again and again until all the aches and pains of being alive went away.

But she just pulled the sheets up to her chin, closed her eyes, and waited for sleep to come again.

The next day, she woke up with dried blood and a cut on her arm, and just wiped off the blood, put on her Foxfire uniform, thanking whatever gods or goddesses that were out there for the long sleeves, even though she already wore those 90% of the time when she wasn’t in Foxfire, Grady and Edaline had no reason to question her sleeves.

It might’ve been just her, but the many sparking jewels on her Ruwen family crest seemed to shine brighter than usual today, as she used it to fasten her cape at her collarbone.

Edaline had conjured up something called Clar Vara’s for breakfast. They tasted like cinnamon and apple pie, and she hated every bite. She wanted to throw up at just the very thought of eating, at the actual action... she’d rather remove her stomach with her own two hands than continue eating.

But they would worry if she didn’t clean her plate, didn’t talk to them before school, didn’t give them one last smile as she stepped under the Leapmaster 500.

And when she glittered onto the purple grassed campus, her stomach twisted again. She really, really, really couldn’t handle school right now. She was exhausted, feeling like she might pass out. She just wanted to sleep...

And then she saw Biana and Keefe glitter onto the grass... and nearly started crying. The reality of her deep, deep want to be hugged, held, and comforted hit her in the gut, and she regretted not hugging Edaline after breakfast, or Grady... even Iggy...

Sophie hadn’t realised she was crying until she saw Biana in front of her, wiping away her tears with her thumb and cupping her cheek, asking what was wrong.

She felt herself melt into the touch, and was disgusted at how starved for it she found herself.

”Sophie? Sophie, you’re scaring me... please say something...” Biana whispered, grabbing her gloved hand with her own free hand and rubbing her palm over the back. Keefe was next to her, looking on, concern knitted into his features, and she realised she’d been staring into space.

”F-Fine... I’m okay..”

Biana looked unimpressed, and gently guided Sophie to sit down. Her thumb glided over the sore, dark circle underneath Sophie’s left eye. “These dark circles have become a permanent feature... you’re staring into space and crying... I want to help you, please let me help you because you’re clearly hurting.”

No matter how much Sophie’s brain screeched at her to just _stop_ , she responded by just crying harder.

Biana pulled her into a tight hug, and Keefe joined in, hugging from the side. Sophie hated how her limbs turned to Jello at the affection, the love, hated the sound of her choked sobs, hated how she was surely soaking the front of Biana’s tunic, and yet, she couldn’t bring herself to _care_.

The memory of the pain from the previous night brought her back, and she promised herself more of that if she calmed down. She didn’t deserve her friend’s worry or love, and people were probably staring.

She gathered herself up and held herself together as best as she could, sniffling and sitting up.

”Wanna fill us in, Foster?” Keefe tried to be joking and light, but couldn’t succeed. The worry was painfully obvious and she _despised_ it.

“Woke up five or six times with nightmares... couldn’t sleep for real at all. Vespera’s death..”

Keefe had been there for that, but he’d been knocked out during the fight that had preceded Vespera’s death. He woke up to Sophie’s screams as she realised Verspera was really gone, as she realised that she’d died like _that_.

He’d initially celebrated, and Sophie just curled up in a ball and cried.

So he bought the excuse easily, offering her company later, a sleepover. Biana agreed, and Sophie said she’d think about it... but she knew she was going to turn them down so she could be alone... because that’s what she deserved.

Sophie held herself together with thin strings of faint hope and promises of relief later, and faced the day.


	2. please let me go, i want to sleep, i’m going to sleep and you can’t stop me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sophie takes a leap of faith... or rather, accepts defeat and goes to sleep.

The cutting became a daily occurrence, sometimes multiple times a day, sometimes just once.

They left scars, and Sophie knew if she just came clean to Elwin he’d give her something to erase them, but she didn’t want that.

She fucking cherished these scars, they reminded her of pain... but also relief, of releasing the pain, even if it just came back a few minutes later, twice as strong.

The blade was addicting, toxic, comforting. She got used to the feeling of cold metal against her skin pretty quick, and she grew to crave it, cutting in the bathrooms at Foxfire to relieve her undying want that wouldn’t go away otherwise, no matter what.

Keefe hadn’t said anything, just flashed glances, silently voicing his concern... but Sophie knew, deep down, even though she tried desperately to forget about it, bury it far below, that he knew something was up. He was an Empath, he was powerful enough to sense her feelings even without touching her, he fucking _knew_ something was going on.

He never asked if she was okay, if she needed help, or a hug... and she was so grateful for that, because she didn’t deserve any of that... but a small part of her, a part of her she sought to destroy, silence forever... wished desperately he’d do something, please please she wanted help, she was scared...

She was getting worse, fast. She knew she was getting worse.

However, it wasn’t like nobody noticed at all. Fitz, Biana, Tam, Linh, Dex, all flashed her worried glances, and of course, Keefe too. Dex kept asking if she was okay, did she need help... Biana offered hugs, Fitz a shoulder to cry on if she needed it... and Keefe, just those annoying looks of concern, when he should be the most annoying with his concern.

And it disgusted her beyond belief that she was _that_ ungrateful for his friendship alone, that she was being that petty and gross and bitchy.

Sophie just wanted to sleep, to forget everything she’d been through, to once again wade through the bright sparkling world one inhabited when faded away from a botched light leap, and this time not be summoned back.

She wanted help... but also knew she deserved to suffer alone, so when she fell asleep at lunch and was questioned, offered help, she refused. When she fell in the hallway and thought she saw Gisela and cried and curled up in a ball, she refused to be helped home or to the Healing Centre, refused to appear weaker than she already appeared.

She was slipping away, with every cut she further severed her already weak connection to the goddamn _possibility_ of happiness, of peace, of a restful night without the gurgles and screams of Vespera as she succumbed to her pain.

Sophie Foster wanted her Wanderling to actually mean something. Sophie slowly stopped caring what that’d mean for everyone else, because she was just so desperate to make the hurt go away, make it stop, make it fucking _stop_ before she went insane.

She was shrieking, and she didn’t care. Nobody cared. She wanted to die.

She cried herself to sleep after cutting deep, her arm screaming in pain, and woke up crying, in just as much pain as before, after seeing Fintan, having lost control of his Everblaze, standing there staring her down as the flames began to consume him, refusing to cry out. He wanted to die with dignity, he told her. 

Nobody cared. She wanted to die.

She had another flashback in the halls, heard Fintan’s final groans and rattling breaths, heard Gisela scream, sharp and cutting. Nobody cared. She wanted to die.

But people did care... Sophie Elizabeth Foster knew that damn well. She saw it in their eyes... until she stopped looking in them. The light faded from her eyes and she so desperately just wanted to sleep and make the hurt stop, so she stopped looking into other people’s eyes to make sense of their feelings.

One day, the blade dipped just far too deep, and she knew far too much blood was slipping from her. It was honestly surprising to her that this hadn’t happened much, much sooner, with how much she’d been hurting herself. It was also surprising how she hadn’t gotten caught and gotten her butt dragged to the Healing Centre.

But this was the perfect opportunity... if she just cut her wrists next... slipped the blade in nice and neat and smooth...

And then she was just sitting there, dumbly watching the blood pour out of her, letting her head grow fuzzy and letting her ears ring angrily.

She wanted to die.... she was going to die... but she didn’t want to die alone. Even if she didn’t deserve it, she wanted to be with her parents when she fell asleep.

Sophie stood slowly, standing still there for a bit to adjust to the head rush, and then went to Grady and Edaline’s room.

They were sleeping, peaceful and quiet, but Edaline woke when she came in.

”Can I sleep here?” Sophie asked. Her words were painfully slurred, against her will, but why did she care? She’d be gone soon.

Edaline looked concerned, staring at her, considering, thinking, and then walked over to her and picked her up.

Sophie went nearly limp, wanting to sob at simple touch with someone she knew loved her, wanting to sob at the warmth against her cold body, and snuggled so close, whimpering and shutting her eyes.

She felt herself being laid down on the bed, and whispered words she couldn’t understand and wasn’t listening to anyway, nothing mattered besides Edaline’s touch, and she cried when Edaline let go.

”Please don’t leave me, Mom... please...” her words were even more slurred, and she felt herself beginning to drift into some other place, some dark but warm alternate world...

Edaline wrapped her arms around Sophie again and sang a sweet song that she couldn’t understand, but it sounded pretty. Two hands pressed at her wrists, and she couldn’t bring herself to figure out what they were doing, or why, she just wanted to sleep, Edaline was so warm...

”Hold on, Sophie.”

Grady’s gentle words got through to her despite everything else not making it through, just becoming background noise as she sunk further into Edaline’s arms. His words were gentle, full of love, and yet choked, with emotion, worry, fear...

But as tempting as it would be to grab onto those words, use them to pull her up to the surface, stay awake, she let go. Letting the warmth sweep her under felt like coming home, felt perfect and real and intoxicating, but with a nagging feeling that this wasn’t right.

She’d been created for a purpose. She’d fufilled that purpose. What she did next was her choice, and her choice was to let go.

Something warm, warmer than Edaline’s caring touch, tapped her forehead as something cool and sweet was poured down her throat, and she instantly sunk into a world of glitter and warmth, of happiness and peace.

A world where she was free, where nothing mattered, where everything was okay. 


End file.
